I Swear, I Promise
by MissyLeyneous
Summary: Teaser Chapter for an in-the-making AU of Undertale. Finally, she was free from her own personal hell. Then suddenly, she despaired, she was trapped again. A blooming author struggles to write summaries. A completely original, yet angsty and emotionally broken character gets tossed into a world of monsters. Ironically, she might be the worst monster of them all...


**~I Swear, I Promise~**

 _(Notes: This is a teaser, this is no where near complete. Considering a voice change from you/your to she/her/hers. Constructive criticism is highly welcomed!)_

 **~1~**

A dull pounding in the back of your skull made you realize that you hadn't been dreaming, even before you opened your eyes. Barely awake, you tried to remember how you had gotten the headache, and the images blurred through your frazzled conciousness. _'That's it... I was running... and hid down in the cave... and...'_ A sharp pain laced up your neck and into your head, and you failed to stifle a small cry. **"Aaaugh... shit..."** You suddenly became aware that you were in a plush bed, with much softer and warmer covers than you were used to. _'These aren't the blankets they use at the KILN...'_ Inwardly, you grimaced at the memories that flooded back to the surface. The King's Initiative Laboratory Network had functioned as both your home and your prison, until you grabbed your sheath and ran away...

 _'My sheath...!'_ You bolted upright in the fear that someone had disarmed you of your sheath... or worse... and instantly regretted the reaction. Pain laced around your torso, neck, and shoulders. Dull, thudding bruises ached from where that bastardized dandelion creature had tried to suffocate you... Your own memories confused you as you stood with gritted teeth and searched the darkness for your sheath. The room was a bright shade of coral, which amplified the slim bar of light coming from under the door, making it easy to see. _'A children's room...?'_ There, on a dresser, you made out the outline of your sword sheath. You gingerly tested your legs, thinking that you should definitely feel worse than you did. Sure, the bruises hurt pretty badly, but you distinctly remember hearing bones breaking, now that you've thought about it for a minute.

You pet your hand across the smooth surface of the kukri sheath. Cherry wood, varnished until it glowed a nearly black ruby color, capped and collared with intricate silver work, and wrapped in braided black leather... Your hands shook slightly as you took it in your grip. This is what allowed you to escape. This sheath was _everything..._ Your life. Your freedom. Your power...

You went to slide it into the notch at your belt... and discovered that you were in girl's pajamas. A small sigh escaped your lips and you instinctively clutched the sheath with your left hand, unwilling to put it down even for a moment. Rubbing the sand from your ebony eyes, you tip-toed to the door, awakened senses finally kicking in, bringing with them more aches and pains. A sweet smell wafted from the hallway outside; you recognized cinnamon, but the rest was foreign to you. The cafeteria at KILN didn't host sweets very often, and when they did it was usually fruit-flavored gelatin cups.

You peeked your head out from the doorway just as the door squeaked noisily. A bustling that had been going on inside the kitchen stopped abruptly. You silently cursed yourself for not being better at stealth. You had always preferred barging headfirst into your obstacles, and had, for the most part, refused stealth training. Muffled foot-steps sounded across the floor at the other end of the house, and you left the door open behind you as you stepped sideways into an offensive stance. You were pretty sure by this point that whoever brought you here didn't intend to hurt you, but experience has taught you that you can never be too careful, even to the point of borderline paranoia.

Whatever aggression you had before faded away into pure astonishment as the figure stepped out into the living room and towards you. Pure white hair - or rather fur - floppy ears, a muzzle and short, rounded-off horns, a purple gown, mismatched oven mits and... the expression of a warm smile?

 **"Hello, small one,"** the soft, feminine voice called out.

 **"H-h...Wha...I..."** You stammered, breathless.

 **"Now, now... Calm down. I'm sure you'll have a lot of questions to ask, but why don't we sit down for some tea first?"** She placed a paw behind your back and gently guided you down the hallway and guestured to the dining table. **"Have a seat, I've made us some cinnamon-butterscotch pie, and it should be almost done. I do hope you like cinnamon and butterscotch?"**

You paused for a moment, searching for the right words. **"I... I honestly don't... know."**

A look of bewilderment crossed her face, but she smiled again and returned to the kitchen to fetch the refreshments she had promised. The room was sleepily warm. A fire crackled and spit in the fireplace; but, upon a second look, you noted that there wasn't any wood in the fire. The bookshelf and a large sofa-chair were the only other two furnishings in the room: both looked old and worn, and the books were all hardbound and smelled of yellowing paper. Within minutes, the smell from the kitchen became overwhelming. You salivated profusely but remained rooted to your chair. This woman didn't seem like the kind of person you wanted to irritate by disobeying, and she had already shown you such courtesy...

 **"Here we are... I do hope you like it."** She spoke gently as she set tea cups and a kettle down on the table, placing a floral potholder underneath the kettle. She poured the tea and made a second trip to deliver two large slices of... _'Oh my god.'_ It wasn't bad enough that you hadn't eaten in over a week, or that your rations had been halved for the three months prior to your escape, or that the food you did receive was malnutritious... No, this was some sort of delectable, hot pudding in a crust, baked in a real oven, made most likely from scratch and not procured from a box or a tube...

You suddenly became embarrassingly aware that a drop of saliva had fallen from your mouth and wiped your hand on your sleeve, blushing. **"What... What do you call it, again?"** You asked tentatively.

The furry woman giggled at your reaction. **"Why... it is a cinnamon-butterscotch pie. A family recipe. Don't tell me you-"**

You cut her off. **"I haven't eaten in over a week. I've never had pie before. Or tea. I... Please... uh... excuse me..."** You couldn't even bring yourself to look at her, only staring at the steaming pie slice. Setting the sheath across your lap, you reached out with your other hand and scooted the plate closer and grabbed up the fork, greed becoming more apparent in your eyes. But, you didn't care. You'd already stuffed your face with a large chunk of pie, and then another, and then another... It was still too hot to eat but you didn't _care_ , it was the most heavenly thing you had ever eaten in your entire life. Halfway through, tears welled up unbidden at the corners of your eyes, as the realization of your freedom hit you. You weren't trapped in the KILN anymore; you were eating the first _real_ meal of your life, you... You swallowed a thick mouthful of pie and sobbed into your hands.

 **"Oh my goodness, my child. There, there... it's okay..."** The bewildered woman pet your black hair with her paw. **"You must feel so dreadfully lost and confused..."** She whispered.

 **"I... I..."** You sniffled, trying to stuff away the rest of what could have been a huge, blubbering episode. **"I don't know who you are, or where I am, but that doesn't matter... I'm finally free. I can go wherever I want! I can be halfway across the world by-"** The smile on the woman's face had noticably saddened. _'Oh no... no no no...'_ Your gleeful face took on a cast of panic, and your heart fluttered like a bird in a cage.

 **"My child... I am very sorry. You will not be able to leave this place."**

You tried to stand from your chair, but her paw reached over and forced you back down with surprising strength. Desperate rage welled up inside of you and she spoke with force to cut off anything you might have wanted to say. **"Do not assume that I am the one holding you here. You are free to leave my home at any time. Please allow me to explain myself. My name is Toriel, and you are in the Ruins."**

Ashamed, you muttered a small 'okay' and continued eating as she spoke. She told you the legend about Monsters, and how they had lost a great war with the Humans, who sealed them all in this mountain with a magical barrier.

 **"Anything with a soul can come here through the barrier...but nothing can leave. We have all been trapped down here for a long time."**

A time when Humans had been proficient at magic? According to the history books you had read, it had been estimated that, thousands of years ago, humans had access to magical technologies, but fragments of that knowledge were few and far between. Humanity had just begun new research into magic several decades ago. Lost in thought, you jumped when Toriel asked you for your name.

 **"Oh, I-I'm sorry, Toriel. My name is Claire Vincent. I guess I should tell you about myself now, huh?"**

Toriel nodded and said softly that she would like to hear about you.

 **"Well, um... I'm not actually a child, you know,"** you corrected, and Toriel nodded. **"I'm 19... I'll turn 20 in about a month from now. I don't actually know what day it is... Today, I mean..."** And so you rambled on. You weren't usually this nervous and fumbling, but you couldn't shake the feeling that you wanted to impress Toriel. It was a most unusual feeling, because you spent most of your later years hiding your accomplishments from your elders, your teachers.

In the hope that they would hold you back, and that you wouldn't become what they wanted you to be.

 **"I'm from a place called King's Initiative Laboratory Network, or KILN, for short... They made me."** Toriel's brow furrowed in questioning, so you had to explain to her how humans were experimenting with lost magics - what they called Eldritch Magic - and how you were "born". The humans had acquired a peice of a "demon's" soul (which you knew now was most likely a peice of a monster soul) and had injected it into an unborn child. Your mother died in childbirth, and your father was a faceless donor. Shame weighed down on your bruised neck as Toriel tried to hide her horror behind her paws. **"They get their funding from the military, so in order to fund the project they promised to turn me into a weapon called a SWORD... a Sentient Weapon Or Restrained Demon... That place was my prison, Toriel. They trained me to fight with all kinds of weapons and magic. They taught me science and history. It was my home for the longest time, but soon I grew old enough to understand the ramifications of my own existence. They came to fear me, and... and I ran away."** You finished awkwardly. It wasn't the complete truth, but it was close enough that it would do.

 **"Oh, child..."** Small tears had welled up in the corners of her furry eyes, and she brushed them away. **"You are safe from the humans, here. At least you can get some form of respite."**

You nodded, and the queasy look you had faded into seriousness. **"I remember jumping down into that cave - or, sinkhole? There were pillars, and it looked like a room had fallen in. I hid in there to escape the humans who were chasing me with their dogs. Then... well, maybe I hit my head or something, because there was a talking, flower-plant thing that tried to choke me,"** You recounted with a touch of incredulousness. **"Slammed my head against the wall... Damn thing got me from behind and laughed about it."**

 **"Language, please,"** Toriel chided. You mumbled an apology under her stern glare. **"No, my child. You weren't dreaming. There was a creature attacking you when I found you, but it saw me and fled back underground as quickly as it came. You were in such bad shape... I did as much as I could, and the pie should help heal you, too."**

 **"I never was very good at healing magic. I can't mend bones, but I can heal flesh wounds pretty well..."**

You drifted the conversation away into different topics of your education, noting that your favorites were anatomy, magic, botany, and sword play.

Toriel glanced uneasily down to the sheath in your lap at the topic of swordplay. **"Do you mind if I ask you about that sword sheath you carry?"** Your fingers curled instinctively around the leather bindings.

 **"It's like... it's a leash, kind of. Whoever wields it can control me, because part of my soul was bound to it. I had to steal it from them to get away. I feel... complete with it."**

Toriel nodded, but her brow was furrowed, as if she was lost in thought. **"Oh, by the way,"** she looked up at you with doe eyes, **"Where are my clothes? I'd like to get dressed."**

 **"Oh, of couse,"** Toriel sighed absent-mindedly. **"I have them washed and ready for you. Let me get them. You may come with me if you want."**

 _'How long was I out for...?'_ You gave a polite smile and nodded, wondering to yourself. Somehow, your smile felt more genuine than any other time you had ever tried to be polite.

Just outside the front door to the home was a washbin and a clothes line, hung with your garments. Dark, stained, and rough jeans, plain, black socks, similar underwear, a C-sized bra, and a black, crew-cut shirt with a complex Celtic triquetra knot emblazoned in silver on the front. You wore your favorite outfit that day, because you knew that it would be the only one that you could take with you. Your black, KILN-issued boots were nestled in a corner by the door with your black, studded belt complete with your trusty shivs. Wrapped in torn shirt materials and wire, they were just the sharpened blades from a pair of child's scissors, complete with the blue plastic handles on the bottom. Draped on the far clothes line pole was your black suede jacket. It had a long tail that was frayed into thick strips, zippered pockets on the front, and a pointed collar, but it was scuffed up pretty badly from your earlier assault. **"Aww, Toriel... You left me my shivs."**

 **"Against my better judgement, yes. I did."** She eyed you carefully.

You smiled gleefully back at her. **"Oh, don't look so sour. You practically saved my life. There's no way I'd attack you, Toriel. I'm gonna go get dressed."** You bundled up your things in your arms and packed them inside to your room to change. Toriel giggled at you and patted you on the shoulder, but something about her demeanor implied to you that she was still saddened.

Your own clothes made you feel so much more at ease, like you were back in your own second skin. Your kukri sheath slid easily into place at your left hip, and your jacket fell into place around your shoulders. Suddenly overwhelmed with confidence, your boots thudded the floor as you left the room to show Toriel your completed outfit.

 **"Oh, my child, your hair is such a mess. Let me comb it for you."** She procured a comb from a small side-table beside the sofa-chair.

 **"Uh, Toriel, I can-"**

She shushed you and insisted, turning you around gently with her paws so that she could detangle your hair.

 **"Ow... ow... ow..."** You winced and muttered under your breath, but soon your hair was tangle-free, and Toriel could part it with ease down the center and let it fall down past your shoulders. _'This must be what it feels like... to have a mom.'_ Trying to quell the burning sensation that welled up in your lungs and failing, your voice cracked when you spoke again. You asked Toriel when you could meet the other people: the other Monsters.

 **"Oh, well, you see... It's difficult to..."** She closed her eyes and set the comb down on the table. When she opened them, her eyes were filled with... pain? **"I have to go do something. Please excuse me. Stay here."**

You never were very good at obeying orders, so as soon as she rounded the stairs down, you were immediately behind her. You had noticed these stairs before but hadn't paid them much mind, assuming they just led to a basement or another floor. A tunnel stretched out ahead of you, leading into darkness, but a torch was moving ahead of you. As you followed the torch - no, you discovered it was Toriel holding a floating ball of fire as a light source. She looked back and glared at you fiercely.

 **"Go back upstairs, small one! I must stop this once and for all."**

She was surprisingly quick and you had to run to catch up with her. Panting, you looked up to a huge door, with the same runic symbol that Toriel wore on her gown. The symbol seemed so familiar, yet you were sure you hadn't seen it before, and you were sure you would remember it if you had. And yet...

 **"Please, go back. If you leave here, they will... Asgore will kill you."**

 **"Toriel, please tell me what's going on. I deserve as much."** She grimaced and looked away from you.

 **"Fine. I am the only resident of the Ruins. I left to guard this place to keep humans from wandering to their dooms. Asgore is collecting their souls. He intends to use them to break the barrier. I have seen it time and time again. Humans come, they leave, they die."** Again, tears welled up in her eyes. **"Small one... Claire. Please do not make the same mistake."**

You giggled a warm laugh. **"Toriel. Please don't fear for me. I can protect myself."**

To which she snorted, **"You naive child, you-"**

You closed your right eye, and your left eye turned. The blackness spread from your pupil to coat your entire eye, turning it jet. A black aura pulsed around one of your hands. **"Toriel... They feared me, and they called be a Witch. They called me Claire Vincent the Draconic. I am more than capable of protecting myself."** You closed your eye and clenched your fist, and the aura receded. When you opened your eyes they were normal again. Toriel appeared to have conceded, but you continued anyway.

 **"I've... I've never made a promise before. To anyone, for anything... But I promise you this, now, Toriel."** She looked up at you with despair and pleading in her eyes. **"Whatever causes you this pain... if it needs fixing, I** _ **will**_ **fix it... And, if it needs breaking,** _ **I will break it."**_

 **"Oh, child."** Toriel was on the brink of sobbing, now. **"Please do not make promises you cannot keep."** And, with that, she gave you a warm, squeezing hug, one of her salty tears dripping onto your cheek. Toriel walked away, and, without looking back, she added, **"But I truly hope you can."**

 _'Don't you cry now... No no no no...'_ For the second time today, you stuffed back a sob. You were going to have to find some real alone time soon and just get it out, but, for now, bottling it up seemed like a better option. The door had no handles or knobs, so you pushed, and it came open rather easily and silently. A gentle breeze sucked through the corridor, as though it was pushing you forward. You stepped to the other side to another corridor with a similar door on the far end. The doors shut behind you on their own. You could see your breath in front of your face now, illuminated by a faint light from ahead. As you walked it got colder, until you could no longer hold back a shiver. You pushed on the second door...

And tripped into snow.

 **~1.1~**

 _"~...if it needs fixing... I will fix it... and if it needs breaking... I will break it...~"_ He listened to the words echo from behind the runic door to the Ruins. This wasn't the familiar voice he had heard time and time again... having this exact conversation. This was something new, an anomaly. _"~...oh, child... but I truly hope you can...~"_ Hope. Now there was something he hadn't seen much of in a long time... _'Let's see how this one plays out...'_ He thought as he crunched away in the driving snow.


End file.
